Twenty-Six
AFTER A FEW MINUTES of sobbing, Rebecca calms down enough to give me the name of a friend we can call to come over to be with her. I have no confidence she’ll get any support or comfort from her husband. The woman arrives about fifteen minutes after I call, then Helen and I leave.
“Brian wasn’t happy?” I say to her as we drive.
“He wasn’t unhappy,” Helen says. “He accepted the facts. That we had got it wrong.”
She drives along in silence. We continue that way until we get to the Rectory.
“Thanks for the lift,” I say.
“I couldn’t have you walk home in the dark, now could I? I’ll let you know when Father Leonard’s hearing will be.”
I watch her drive off, then walk into the Rectory and head into the living room. I collapse on the couch, then lean over so I’m laying on it. I
